knockin on heaven’s door
On the same weekend, we have lost two iconic Queenslanders – Petersen and Grassby, who represented two completey different energies and strands in our public life and secret desires. Here we see the worst of wowserism against the best of spontaneous joy.
We are not supposed to speak ill of the dead. Plenty of people were destroyed by Bulky Joe Petersen, plenty of futures blighted, plenty of places despoiled. I am not going to be sanctimonious and hypocritical about his legacy.
He was an evil man.
Andrew Bartlett is building a fitting memorial on the blogosphere. Soul Sphincter has a little of the madness of the times.
Al Grassby had his moments of political stupidity, in his tangled and probably naive links with crime in the Riverina, but he was something special.
“Born at New Farm in Brisbane on July 12, 1926, to an Irish mother and a Spanish father who had lived in Chile, he had a nomadic existence as a child.
From Newcastle and Sydney, to Sudan, Italy, France, Spain and Scotland, the family moved constantly until Grassby returned to Australia in 1948 and eventually took up an information officer position with the CSIRO in Griffith.
He won a seat in NSW parliament in 1965, before being elected to federal parliament in 1969 by the Riverina electorate – a seat Labor had not held for 24 years.”
“Described as the “father of multiculturalism”, Grassby came to national prominence in the 1970s as Gough Whitlam’s Immigration Minister.
He was a passionate voice for the hundreds of thousands of non-English speaking migrants who had come to Australia seeking a better life.
Later, as the overseer for the groundbreaking Racial Discrimination Act, Grassby was appointed the Commissioner for Community Relations.
As a NSW state politician and then as the Labor member for the federal seat of Riverina between 1969 and 1974, Grassby slashed his way through decades of anti-immigrant sentiment.
In the eyes of admirers, Grassby helped Australia break free from its White Australia past and laid the groundwork for the multiculturalism of the 1980s and 1990s.”
I guess I am an admirer. He was a grand old bugger.
April 25th, 2005 at 3:57 pm
I disagree. If anybody was the ‘father of multiculturalism’ it would be Pierre Trudeau in Canada. Still, Grassby was an absolute legend and far better a Minister for Immigration than any of the wastes of space we’ve had recently.
April 25th, 2005 at 5:23 pm
And Petersen was born here in NZ,*shudder*, a huge and dangerous embarassment.
April 25th, 2005 at 5:37 pm
You had the wit to export him!
April 25th, 2005 at 6:04 pm
This latest spat of deceased political correctness is making me spew. JB-P and JP-2 zealots are rewriting history with gay abandon. Sure, don’t speak ill of the dead where appropriate, but don’t blow smoke up their stiff arses either.
April 25th, 2005 at 10:12 pm
I am saddened by the death of Al Grassby. Migrating in Australia in 1974 he represented for me someone that signified a government that welcomed migrants and their diversity.
His outlandish ties and expansiveness showed a sort of I don’t give a bugger’ characteristic that is one of the most endearing chracteristic of Australians.
His death somewhat symbolises the end of the ideal that Australia could escape its strong assimilationist sentiments and embrace the concept of being ‘Australian’ without the narrow contraints which are currently being encouraged, either openly or subtly, by the current government and the commercial media.
April 25th, 2005 at 11:45 pm
I had no idea Grassby was born in New Farm – that’s where I live!
April 26th, 2005 at 9:00 am
It’s genuinely sad to hear that Al Grassby died. He definitely broke the political mould.
April 26th, 2005 at 8:18 pm
It was an awfully long wait for Joh to lose power: now there is an attempt here in Qld to re-write history. Springborg (the present National Party leader) is even floating the idea of a statue of Joh. How bizarre is that? Maybe it could serve as a monument to corruption and general bastardry.
On a lighter note it’s good to be reminded of Al Grassby and to learn more of his origins. My personal memory is of dancing with him at a ball in a central NSW town. Looking back I reckon he was kind enough to dance with a visitor to town who probably looked a bit out of her depth. This was a dance where the ‘nobs’ were to the front of the hall and the poorer whites and remarkably some Aborigines ‘knew’ their place at the back. Would have been around ‘71. He could dance well too!